


How The Coronavirus Ends

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Coronavirus [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: COVID-19, Coronavirus, Cuddling, M/M, Pandemics, Quarantine, Return To Normalcy, Social Anxiety, Starting Over, Uneasy feelings, compromises, joy, restrictions, unsettled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: How the Coronavirus Pandemic Ends For The Enterprise.With A Whimper And Little Else.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Coronavirus [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701550
Kudos: 14





	How The Coronavirus Ends

**Author's Note:**

> In 1925 the great Twentieth-Century poet T. S. Eliot wrote “The Hollow Men” which was based on the state of Europe after World War I. It ends with perhaps the most quoted lines of poetry written in that century. “This is how the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper.” It expresses the feeling that nothing was really solved and that nothing ever will be okay again because the people are dead inside.
> 
> Maybe we aren't dead inside like those lost souls after World War I, but this year has devastated us and has left us wondering if anything will ever be normal again. Will we ever have an end to this horror, or will it just whiffle away but still be lurking at the edges of our awareness?

How does the threat of the coronavirus pandemic end for the officers and crew of the Enterprise? It doesn’t. It just sorts of whiffles away, acting like it is fading from the Screen of Life, to rear its ugly head here and then there yet again, seemingly without any sort of logic about it at all.

If Jim Kirk was antsy about not being able to go back to a normal routine after two weeks of the initial quarantine, he was livid after two months of doing nothing except following medical guidelines about safety practices involving the virus.

“Bones! We can’t go on this way!” Kirk snarled at McCoy as if it was all his fault and not the virus's. Kirk's eyes were blazing as he stomped around in McCoy’s office in sickbay. “I’m tired of marking time in this hellhole! I want to get back to exploring! And finding new worlds! Not, not stagnating in this one!” he declared, throwing out his hand. "There's no glory here! Just, just routine!"

“Be sure to stay six feet away from me,” McCoy cautioned as he sat at his desk and watched as Kirk paced dangerously close to him. “Especially since you aren’t wearing a mask. And you need to do anyway, as a good example to the crew.”

That, of course, was the wrong thing to say to Kirk. He skidded to a stop and glared at his CMO. “Don’t lecture me about what I should be doing for ship morale! I know what would help the morale of the crew and mine, too! And that’s to blast the hell outa here and leave all this shit behind us in the dust of our engines!”

“I wish it was that easy, Jim,” McCoy said as he adjusted his own face mask. He was tired of wearing a mask all of the time, too. He was tired of washing his hands constantly. He was tired of keeping six feet of space between him and other people in social situations. (It was impossible to do so in medical situations. He had to touch patients. And sometimes lately, he thought that his patients yearned for his touch more than his healing abilities.)

Kirk should know what McCoy was going to say next, but McCoy was going to have to say it because Kirk didn’t want to be aware of the words. Kirk knew the words; he just didn’t want to acknowledge them.

“Blast out of here and leave all this shit behind us in the dust of our engines, you say?” McCoy repeated. “Great! The virus loves a road trip! Because the virus ain’t staying behind. It ain’t gonna stay here and wave goodbye to us as we leave. It’s going with us! Because, no matter how well we disinfect, some of the little bastards will still stow away with us. And going somewhere else will open up all sorts of new territory for it. Then we’ll introduce it to people who have no immunity for it. It’ll go through their population like poop through a goose and decimate a thriving civilization until it is nothing more than rows of crosses in a cemetery. Just say the word, and the virus can be packed in a heartbeat. It's just been waiting for the opportunity to spread itself like this.”

Kirk waved him away with an angry motion.

McCoy sat up. “I’m not exaggerating. The virus is in charge. We ain’t.”

“We can’t roll over and play dead, either! We gotta fight!”

“That’s what I’m doing. But we gotta go by its guidelines, not try to hammer it into ours. ‘Cause that just ain’t gonna happen.”

Kirk began pacing again. “We’ve got to move on with our lives! We can’t be coddling this virus forever! We’ve got to relax what we’re doing so commerce and normalcy can have a chance again.”

“All that’s gonna do is get an increase in cases and then, sadly, deaths.”

Kirk huffed with that killjoy news. He wanted to hear more encouraging facts than what McCoy had, because what McCoy was saying was the same thing he had been spouting since this had all started.

“This thing just has to run its course, Jim. Using common sense precautions is the best way to combat it. That, and treat people who do come down with it.”

“I expect to hear different information by this time.”

“I’m not a miracle worker.”

“That isn’t good enough! I expect results and I want them now!”

“Jim, be realistic. And don’t blame me for this mess,” McCoy said tiredly. “I’m not in charge of what’s going on. I’m not the one directing how this virus is acting or where it will turn up next. My job is trying to keep us as healthy as possible until the virus decides it’s done enough hell-raising for awhile and disappears again.” He paused for emphasis. “Until then, we play by its rules.” 

“I can’t accept that, Bones.”

“The virus doesn’t care shit from Shinola what you can or cannot accept. Nations aren’t in charge now. People aren’t, either. Not even demigods or dictators who think the world has to bow to them can order this virus around to fit their agendas. That just ain’t gonna happen now.”

“Bones, this just ain’t the way the world’s supposed to work,” Kirk said, deflated and with a tired voice. “It's just plain insane.”

“I know,” McCoy said softly. “I’m tired of it as well.” He bit his lips together. “Hell, I’d just like to hug my sweetie again. I’m tired of stealing glimpses of him across the room and not getting any closer to do anything else. I’m afraid it will break us up.”

Kirk frowned. “Bones? What does this mean? Are you and Spock having problems?”

“How would I know?” McCoy answered bitterly. “We’re like two strangers sleeping in the same room. I’ve just gotten used to him being in there, but that’s as far as it goes. He’s just there, and nothing else. I expect it’s the way that strangers felt who shared shelters during the London Blitz. Any old port in a storm, but the foul weather has forced all sorts of riffraff in with you.”

“You guys are still sleeping six feet apart?” Kirk wanted to know.

It was a sad and ironic smile that McCoy sent him. “Six feet and one inch. That one inch must be the only thing keeping him honest, because I know I’m having trouble with it. If he'd cave in, so would I.”

“You know there’s no way that anyone could force married people to stay six feet away from each other, don’t you?” Kirk said softly. 

The ironic smile was back. “And now the Devil begins to whisper in my ear. And he doesn’t have to say it too loudly, because I’m wanting what he’s suggesting.”

“Bones, I think you two need to go back to cohabiting.”

That got a real grin out of McCoy. “We’re married. It wouldn't be sexual relations outside of holy bonds.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I do. And it’s true. I don’t feel married anymore,” he said with a sigh. “We did the six feet thing for several reasons. For starters, we thought we would be good examples for the lower ranks. We thought this thing wouldn’t last this long, and we’d be back to snuggling together in no time. And we did it to protect each other. We love each other more than we love ourselves and wanted to protect each other. But this, this is gonna last forever at this rate! And I can’t last much longer! I want my Vulcan back! I just want to feel him in my arms again!”

And just like that, Kirk was ministering to him and soothing his doubts and fears. “And you shall have him. And he shall have you.”

McCoy frowned. “Jim?” 

“I think we’re gonna have to learn to live with this thing until it goes away. And I don’t mean living in a vacuum like we’ve been doing. And I don’t mean going crazy and going to crowded beaches and drunken parties, either. We learn to live with automobile crashes and tainted food, so we can learn to live with this thing, too. We can’t just put our lives on hold, otherwise we’re gonna be cheated out of life.”

“Jim, I hear what you’re saying, but I can’t advocate it. I have to back the medical viewpoint.”

“And I have to promote a hybrid way of living. For the simple fact that we need to be living.”

“I don’t know. I’m uneasy about all of this.”

“I am, too. But I say that we need to try something different. We’ve done it your way, and the virus keeps winning. And we’re painting ourselves into a corner. The controversy is tearing us up inside and turning us against each other.”

“So that’s your solution? Ignore it?”

“Partly. And partly to learn to live with it.”

“So what’s your prescription? How do we proceed from here? What should I do?”

“Let your husband make love to you tonight.”

McCoy jerked with the wrongness of the suggestion. And then his body trembled with his need to have Spock in his arms again.

"Glory in it," Kirk urged. "Appreciate each other. It's what you are intended to do. This other thing-- no hugging, no kissing, no shaking hands, no nothing--" He made a face of disgust and it turned a handsome man ugly. "This other thing-- It ain't natural."

"I know, but--"

“So stop torturing yourself. Go to Spock. He’ll do it if you want him to.”

“I’ll feel like a betrayer. I shouldn't try to weaken Spock when he's trying to stay so strong.”

“We’re aren’t meant to be superhuman. We can take only so much.”

McCoy nodded numbly. “Are you gonna take your own advice?”

Kirk looked sheepish. “I already have been." Then the determination came back into his face. "I know I’ve been playing with something dangerous, but it’s been my choice. I guess that I’d rather die with a smile on my face than live with an ache in my empty heart. I’m not as principled or as strong as you and Spock are apparently. Do this for yourselves,” he urged. “It might kill you, but I’m betting that you’ll be around in two weeks or even in two months. Life’s a gamble any way you look at it. And sometimes you just gotta take chances, no matter how dangerous.”

McCoy slowly nodded his head.

That night McCoy advanced on Spock. After weeks of automatically stepping aside and avoiding the other person at all costs, it was difficult to deliberately approach Spock. That became easier after several forays, but it was going to be a long time before it became natural and longer yet before it could be done unconsciously.

At first Spock shifted away from him, but eventually ran out of room. And the pursuit was reaching the silly stage, because Spock realized that McCoy wasn't absently crowding him. McCoy intended to breach Spock's safe zone.

“What is this, Ashayam?” Spock wanted know. He felt off-balance because they had not been this close to each other in months. In fact, he had not been that close to anyone in that time. It felt odd and caused him anxiety, even though it was just his mate.

McCoy felt off-balance, too. He held out his hand to Spock. Spock eyed it suspiciously, as if it was a spider inching ever closer to him. McCoy eventually let his hand settle gently on Spock's shoulder. Spock trembled beneath that hand, but did not brush it away.

They stood that way for a matter of moments, as if they had been frozen in time doing something perfectly normal. It was almost as if they were presenting a tableau vivant that would go on forever. They looked like two acquaintances having an earnest conversation.

“What is this?” Spock repeated.

“I just needed to touch you,” McCoy whispered hoarsely and urgently. "Just once, again, for as long as I wanted."

“And how is it?”

“Strange.”

“No wonder. It has been over two months. We have been told that to do so might cause us to die.”

They stood there as if they expected to fall dead in the next few moments.

When nothing like that happened, Spock said, "What brought this on? What prompted you to do something like this?" Not that he was minding or even objecting. He just wondered what had brought about such a wonderous event.

McCoy said, “Jim thought we should forget the rule about sleeping six feet rule apart.”

“One inch will not prevent us from contaminating each other.”

“It isn’t intended to.”

An impossible hope sprang into Spock's eyes. “The coronavirus threat is over?”

McCoy shook his head. “We’re trying different tactics.”

Spock was disappointed and felt jaded. “What tactics are those? Sticking our heads in the sand?”

“You pick one helluva time to understand idioms!”

“And you pick an odd time to pretend that coronavirus does not exist anymore.”

“It exists. But we’re just gonna have to live with it, like an unpleasant relative who’s come to live in the back bedroom. It’s not underfoot all the time and we can avoid it, but we still know the bastard is with us.”

“You do not seem too happy with all of this, even if it means we will be able to be more intimate.”

“I wonder if I’ve cheated us out of our time together the last few weeks.”

“You did what you thought was best for us.”

“But it’s changed our way of thinking and acting. It ain’t natural for us to be that close to anyone anymore.”

“Oh, I believe that will come back rather quickly,” Spock said with a suggestive smile.

“I don’t mean that. We won’t be happy. We’ve learned to live afraid, like there’s a giant flyswatter following us around over our heads and threatening to smash us flat if it takes a notion to do so. It's whimsical that way, and we've become overcautious. Hell, we had to, or pay the price. But it's taken its toll on us. We’ve lost our joy, and I don’t know if I for one will ever get it back the way I once had it.”

“Oh, Leonard,” Spock said as he gathered McCoy close to him. They closed in on each other like a flower folds its petals unto itself at sunset. At least that part felt natural, and it seemed so good just to be able to hold onto something breathing again. “We can only try. You once gave me all the joy in the universe, and now I will have to try to restore it to you.”

They stood there in each others arms for the longest time. And then McCoy felt like he wanted to embrace Spock further. He snaked a hand up Spock’s shoulder and trailed it around to the back of his neck.

Spock sighed and molded himself into the embrace of that hand. Some of the unconscious tension that he had been holding in for weeks lifted away from him to disappear into the air.

McCoy felt a tiny spark as he realized he was bringing pleasure and peace to his beloved. Maybe that was the secret of finding back joy. Like love, you cannot find joy until you have given it away. Maybe now they could lie down in each others arms and forget for awhile about that six feet and one inch that had separated them for such a long time.

At least it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I agree with Jim Kirk, but this ambivalence between safety and returning to normal is tearing people apart. It might well prove harder on us than the coronavirus, because there is no clear-cut answer. No great question ever does.
> 
> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
